


Make Your Peace

by Fancifullauren



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, les mis kink meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 14:45:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 437
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fancifullauren/pseuds/Fancifullauren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When it's Enjolras's turn, they all think he's going to hold a last vibrant nationalist plea. But Enjolras doesn't say anything. He turns his head to Grantaire and kisses him on the lips.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Your Peace

**Author's Note:**

> Response to Kink Meme prompt:  
> Just a little alternate close-up on their death scene, 'coz it's really my favorite part in the Brick.
> 
> The National Guard in charge of the shooting appears to be a stickler for tradition. Let's say that, for the sake of tradition, he asks E and R if they have a last wish/final words to say. 
> 
> Grantaire looks at Enjolras and says "What more could I wish?" (or something of the kind).
> 
> When it's Enjolras's turn, they all think he's going to hold a last vibrant nationalist plea. But Enjolras doesn't say anything. He turns his head to Grantaire and kisses him on the lips.
> 
> (I just want R to die happy...)

The head of the Guards looked at the pair, a blank expression upon his face.

“Take aim!” He ordered with a heavy heart. 

Grantaire’s heart was pounding out of his chest, but he felt the steady pulse under Enjolras’ wrist, around which his hand was clenched like it was anchoring him to the Earth. 

“Do you feel afraid?” Enjolras whispered, low enough so only his friend could hear. 

“No,” Came Grantaire’s steady reply, though his hands were shaking and tears streamed down his face. He, of course, didn’t need to repeat the question; he already knew the fearless leader had come to terms with his inevitable fate long ago. The openness of this presentation only solidified this idea. It wasn’t any different from how he’d imagined a thousand times – dulce et decorum est pro patria mori. What joy, for motherland to die! For it was this that Enjolras dreamed of his entire life. 

Grantaire, on the other hand, could think of no surprise more sweet than to die hand in hand with Enjolras. 

“Make peace with your Divine,” instructed the head of the Guard. 

Enjolras bowed his head, as if in prayer, but looked at Grantaire out of the corner of his eye. 

“I can think of no better way to die than by your side,” Grantaire confided quietly. 

His leader turned to face him. “Would you not die in my embrace, then?” He asked, holding his arms out. The sight bore a shocking resemblance to the position Jesus had assumed in his martyrdom upon a cross. His heart almost stopped, but he was just able to curl his arms around the smaller man and pull him into a tight hug. Enjolras folded up around him, enveloping him like the blaze of passion he so often radiated, and leaned up to meet his gaze. 

When Enjolras spoke, it was barely a whisper: “I have always believed in you.” 

The words pierced into Grantaire like no bullet ever could. Always. He had always believed in him. If the overwhelming emotion alone wasn’t enough to kill Grantaire, Enjolras surged forward and captured Grantaire’s trembling mouth in a soft kiss. He instantly returned it with a needy press of lips; but the two men able to make only a few exchanges. They didn’t hear the order, nor did they feel the bullets entering their newly fused flesh. They simply fell, arm in arm, onto the ground.

In his final fleeting moments, Enjolras looked into Grantaire’s motionless brown eyes. Though they did not shine with life, he could see the hint of a smile upon his lips. 

Both men died content.


End file.
